Pretty, Witty Woman
by TheRandomScribbler
Summary: Astoria is stuck. She doesn't have a date to her cousin's wedding and she can NOT go alone. It's convenient enough that Draco Malfoy would go with her in a heartbeat, but one: he's in insufferable prat and two: she's sworn not to like him if it kills her.
1. The Dilemma of Draco

Summary: Astoria is running out of options. Both her potential escorts cancelled at the last minute, and she can_not _go to her cousin's wedding without a date. Well...there _was_ always Draco Malfoy, but he was such an insufferable git, she'd have to put a Silencing Charm on him before she let him go anywhere with her...lighthearted DracoAstoria.

Disclaimer: As always and forever, I don't own them or claim to. Sadface.

Rating: K+...nothing too bad here.

* * *

Chapter 1: The Dilemma of Draco

Astoria Greengrass was stuck in something of a quandary.

Within the last few days she had had not one but two unpleasant experiences of being cancelled on, first by Gregor Stravinsky a week ago and then by Christopher Mumford two days later, and her cousin's wedding was _tomorrow._

Astoria huffed, tapping her wand against her social events calendar so her full list of contacts sprang up just to the left of the frantically circled _Jacob's wedding_ on Saturday, 1 May 2004.

A muttered incantation narrowed the list down to all candidates who fit the criteria of _male_ and _appropriately aged for dating_, and narrowed her options down to exactly five.

Michael Beatty, no. She had lost contact with him more or less as soon as they had left Hogwarts and it would be awkward to up and ask him to a wedding now, even if he had been a sweet boy back then.

Allen Bartholomew was also a no. He had been in her year at Hogwarts, in Slytherin. She had heard, though she wasn't exactly sure if it was true, that he had gotten his girlfriend pregnant at the end of their seventh year and been forced by her father to marry her right after graduation. This obviously removed him from the list of possible candidates.

Gerald Aranda was not a choice for more reasons than she cared to name, including how he had attempted to grope her at the Yule Ball her fifth year, leered lasciviously at both her and Daphne the following year, made accompanying inappropriate remarks regarding the three of them whenever he happened to be around them. Daphne hadn't seemed to mind the attention, but then again Daphne, in Astoria's mind, was an air-headed nitwit who could do with a little more common sense and a little less...tendency to make herself accessible to boys. Astoria had always been irritated Gerald was placed in Ravenclaw, as she had prided herself on her own placement there and would rather have not associated with creeps like Gerald. Although, she supposed, every House must have them, as there was no_ Perverts and the Socially Idiotic_ classification at Hogwarts.

Donald Maldonado was a Hufflepuff. Astoria might not have the phenomenal level of arrogance typically possessed by a Slytherin, but she still had her pride and she didn't think she could stand to ask out someone who would probably trip over his own feet and knock the wedding cake over.

That left just one person on her list.

Astoria groaned internally.

She had not wanted it to come to this. Staring up at her, tauntingly, was the name Draco Malfoy, whose name Astoria had only extremely reluctantly put into her contacts list at all, and only at that so she could know whose communications to ignore.

She had known Draco through the ringleader of her sister's gang, Pansy Parkinson of Slytherin, who had long regaled her followers with tales of how gloriously beautiful she found Draco. These tales Daphne had seen fit to pass on to Astoria, who on politer days replied she couldn't care less and on ruder days snapped she didn't give a hippogriff's wrinkly rump. At any rate, Draco was no longer at all interested in Pansy, though Astoria had to wonder if he had ever been interested in her at all from the callous way Daphne had at times told Astoria he treated Pansy.

In fact, as luck or some other tricky entity would have it, Draco had now focused his attentions on none other than Astoria Greengrass herself. He had begun to notice her during his sixth year and her fifth, during which he had acted fairly subdued, for reasons Astoria found out later. They had formed a tentative friendship, she trying to display kindness to him, sensing he was under some kind of pressure of which she was uninformed. But that was the year all hell had broken loose and Draco abruptly left Hogwarts and Astoria, while she regretted it, had been too focused on her studies to really feel any kind of impact. The year after that Draco had returned to Hogwarts, but was cold and distant, refusing all company, and she had hardly seen him at all. Now, however, after the end of the war, Astoria had noticed a definite shift in his priorities, the list of which she seemed to top. He had been subtle at first, sending her a bouquet of pink roses after she'd been required to spend a night in St. Mungo's due to a Boiling Charm gone wrong, but had quickly dropped all pretenses after that and begun sending her letters, flowers, food and anything else he could think of in an attempt, it seemed, to regain her favor.

Astoria felt pleased by his attentions as any young woman would, but being a Ravenclaw, had entirely too much common sense to really be flattered or wooed by his attempts to win her heart. She had accepted the first few gifts he had sent, but was forced to put her foot down when he sent her a (beautiful) sapphire and diamond necklace. She had sent it back with her regrets, but firmly though gently told him she was not interested. That didn't seem to work, however, and though he sulked for awhile he eventually began again even more ruthlessly than before.

Weren't they at least friends? He would wheedle, and she had to admit they were. Though they had not kept company with each other much since sixth year, now they were the Junior Spokes Witch and Wizard for the English Division of International Relations at the Ministry, and thus she was required to spend many hours of the week with him. Annoying as he generally was to be with and determined to dislike him as she was, Astoria had to admit he wasn't wholly unbearable - though she would rather have swallowed acid than admit it.

The good part of this was that Astoria knew Draco would jump at the opportunity to accompany her to her cousin's wedding, so she was guaranteed not to go alone if she asked him. The bad part, besides of course giving Draco exactly what he wanted, was that Draco was more or less an insufferable git. He might have lost some of his pride after the war, but there were some things that really couldn't be driven out of a man no matter what his circumstances, and in the Malfoy family, this was a man's sense of self-worth. What was more, somehow Draco seemed to have gained an immovable ability to talk about anything and everything while they worked together at the Ministry, stuck together in a tiny room doing menial paperwork for hours. Or rather, Astoria did the paperwork while Draco drove her up the wall with his constant talking: about Quidditch, about what he had for supper the night before, about the warlock uprising in Romania, about the stupid albino peacocks walking around his stupid Manor. He also liked to keep up a constant stream of discontentment, ranging from the poor quality of the weather, to his dislike of the color of the walls to the irritating way Helena Marcham in Administration had several hairs sticking straight out of her stupid-looking bun on the back of her head.

Astoria sighed and ran a hand through her dark, thick hair. If she invited Draco to be her date for the wedding, not only would she have to put up with his constant stream of speech but also his attempts to woo her, which would undoubtedly be renewed in full force by this slight encouragement. Still, she absolutely could not go unescorted to Jacob's wedding, especially given that Eddie MacFarland would be there and undoubtedly have a date and there was no way Astoria could let her tosser of an ex-boyfriend show her up at her own cousin's wedding.

But why did it have to come to this? Despite her lack of a flirtatious personality like her sister, Astoria had never had trouble receiving male attention. Draco had even flat-out told her that she was more attractive than her sister and should she ever need a man for any reason she could just bat her eyes and that would work perfectly well to get whatever she wanted. Astoria, of course, thought that Draco was extremely biased, given his infatuation of her, but he had said it with that look in his eyes that meant he was just being blunt without care for tact, and the flat tone of his voice added to her conviction that he was telling the truth.

Still, Astoria didn't want to go with just anyone; he could turn out to be a total prat, or more perverted than Gerald Aranda (though she didn't know whether that was even possible) or clumsier than a Hufflepuff. She knew that at least Draco wouldn't insult her or try to put strange things in her drink or trip over his own feet, and if she was forced to be in photos at least Draco would look attractive enough in them. The problem was, could Draco keep his mouth shut? If he saw anyone he didn't like or, heaven forbid, took a dislike to the bride's gown or Jacob's dress robes, she really was not at all certain he could be trusted not to let everyone within hearing distance know just how he felt about the matter. Despite whatever charms he tried to use on her, he could be quite the ornery little loudmouth when the mood took him - and it seemed to rather frequently. If only she could just keep a Silencing Charm on his mouth, so he could stand still and look pretty for the pictures, so she wouldn't have to show up alone, then they could just watch politely and eat their cake and leave without a fuss.

Briefly she entertained the idea of faking illness and declining the invitation altogether, but it was only a day in advance and that was terrible manners - and what was more, this was her darling cousin Jacob's wedding. He had been her best friend since childhood, the one person who would listen to her endless complaints about all the empty space in her sister's head, the one who chuckled and tried to hide his amusement at her descriptions of her sister as a mindless toy poodle. Jacob was the older brother Astoria never had, sending carefully worded letters to would-be admirers, cheerfully threatening to exchange a broken bone for Astoria's broken heart, bringing Astoria sweets when she was a child, and writing back to her immediately at the slightest sign she was lonely. No, ditching her cousin's wedding would hurt his feelings terribly even if he didn't think it was her fault; nonattendance was not an option.

Resignedly, she sighed, and stepped over the fireplace.

"Malfoy Manor," she called into it, pointing her wand into it, and immediately a rush of purple flame engulfed the log prongs, through which a woman's voice sounded a few seconds later.

"Narcissa Malfoy," identified the rather cold voice of the woman and Astoria suddenly felt a tiny fluttering of anxiety in her stomach.

"Astoria Greengrass for Draco Malfoy, Mrs. - um - Mrs. Malfoy," she said, cursing her awkwardness. For Merlin's sake she was the Junior Spokeswitch on behalf of the English Division of International Relations, she had spoken to countless foreign diplomats and ambassadors properly, why couldn't she compose a single sentence to speak to Draco's mother?

"Please hold, Miss Greegrass," said Narcissa Malfoy, and a swishing on the other end indicated her robes swept the floor as was seeking her son. There was no response for several moments, during which Astoria fiddled with the end of wand nervously, rather wondering if she should pull it out of the fire and try again for fear they had been disconnected. Just as she was about to give up, there was a _pop_ and Draco Malfoy's smug, pale face appeared in her fireplace - though it would have been tell what color his skin was, given the purple appearance the flames gave to everyone who communicated that way.

He was panting slightly hard and his hair seemed to be wet but hastily slicked back. She raised her eyebrows at his appearance.

"You dragged me out of the bath," he said accusingly, though it was impossible not to hear the pleased tone of his voice that she had called.

"Did I?" she said coolly. "Well, don't let me keep you from it. You could have at least had one of your elves tell me so I needn't have stood here for the last -"

"It's no matter," he said quickly. A purple hand appeared as he nervously smoothed back his hair, and Astoria realized with a tiny jolt of pleasure that he must have hastily attempted to make himself look presentable for her. For anyone else, she thought, self-centered Draco Malfoy would have told the house elf to tell the caller to call him back another time, because he was busy and of course the world revolved around _his_ schedule, but he had, it seemed, pulled himself from bathing and attempted quickly to look good for her. It was a little bit adorable, even if she didn't like him at all.

"So, to what do I owe the pleasure, Spokeswitch Greengrass?" he inquired with a tad more glee than she really thought necessary.

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, drop it, Malfoy."

"As you wish, Your Royal Highness," he said mockingly. Astoria frowned irritably into the fire; she knew this had been a terrible idea from the get-go.

"Forget it, Malfoy," she said furiously. "If you're going to be that much of an obstinate _pig_ about things then I won't even ask-"

"Ask what?" he said eagerly, suddenly dropping all pretenses. "Ask what, Astoria? I'm s- er, well, I didn't mean to make fun of you."

It was the closest to "I'm sorry" that she was going to get out of him, she knew that.

"I just wondered," she said, trying to sound casual. She could practically see his whole body leaning forward with anticipation. "If you wanted...well, it's my cousin's wedding tomorrow, you see...you're probably already busy, but I just wanted to ask..."

"Are you asking me out on a date?" his eyes shot wide open with glee and she could feel the beginnings of a brag in the conversation...

"Only one, and only because I'm des-too busy to find a proper date," she quickly corrected herself. She had been about to say 'desperate', which obviously would have made him impossibly smug.

"Astoria Greengrass, Untouchable, is asking me out on a date!" Draco crowed with such self-congratulations it made Astoria instantly regret asking him as a sudden desire to _incendio _that stupid little smirk off his face came over her. She wondered whether it was at least possible to Obliviate someone over fire communication so he could forget all about her asking him out - and maybe make him forget all about his infatuation with her, while she was at it.

"So was it my charm, good looks or vast fortune that prompted you to ask?" he grinned impishly and infuriatingly at her.

"Well, as I have my own wealth, it certainly wasn't your 'fortune', Malfoy," Astoria said coldly, realizing her mistake a split second too late.

"So it must be my charm or devastating good looks - or a combination of the two perhaps!" he gloated.

"I told you, I've been so busy doing my work _and _yours too at the Ministry I haven't had time to think of a proper date!" she snapped at him angrily. No way was she telling him both her other potential escorts had bowed out on her. "You can just thank your lucky stars you're slightly less creepy than Gerald Aranda-"

Draco made a sound of disgust. "That nasty little toerag? Greengrass, don't tell me you were so _desperate _you were going to ask _Gerald Aranda..._"

She flushed, scowling.

"He definitely hasn't got my charm, or fit Quidditch body, or-"

She sensed a long Why Draco is the Best at Everything rant oncoming, and nipped that little problem in the bud straightaway.

"You can just forget about it, if that's how you're going to be," she informed him icily and immediately, he fell silent.

"Er...right. Only kidding!" (Astoria was sure he wasn't) "So-" hastily trying to regain what little favor he had acquired in the first place- "-tomorrow, eh?"

"Yes, at three o'clock," she said, her irritation with him lessening slightly. "But we'll need to meet up at one-"

"Merlin's Beard, no," he immediately said crossly, and Astoria wondered what could have caused this drastic change of mood..."I'll pick you up, of course, don't tell me tradition means nothing to you!"

Her silence indicated tradition was indeed meaningful to her and she did not oppose his suggested course of action.

"I'll pick you up at one, if you can be ready by then-"

Astoria felt annoyed, _she_ was the one who had suggested a one o'clock meeting time, of course she would expect herself to be ready by then.

"And we'll eat before we go. Weddings are such dreadfully boring affairs and undoubtedly they won't serve supper until half the guests have already perished of starvation."

Astoria felt cross that he was suddenly taking over all her plans and just _assuming _her cousin would be so thoughtless as to let his guests _perish_ before they were fed, but Draco's monologue changed to a question that brought her back into the conversation.

"What are you wearing?" he demanded suddenly.

"I-er-" in truth, she hadn't really thought about it yet. Despite the fact she'd only told Draco she was too busy to find a 'real' date to irritate him, she really had been busy and had been far more focused on who she was bringing rather than what she would be wearing. She had plenty of beautiful things, of course, given that her father had never denied either of his girls whatever they wanted, and weddings were always formal occasions so she supposed she would go with a set of midnight blue robes offset with silver, and silver jewelry and hair accessories. She had a beautiful bottle green dress as well that she had rather been wanting to wear for awhile now, but since blue was Ravenclaw's color, and green Slytherin's, it would probably please Draco only too much for her to be dressed in _his _preferred color. Therefore, blue was obviously the better choice and she was sticking with it.

"But why do _you_ need to know?" she asked suspiciously before tellimg him.

"We need to match, of course," Draco replied impatiently, as though this were the most obvious thing in the world. Astoria couldn't help but smile at that, and refrained from teasing him about the excellent extent to which his mother (and father, probably) had obviously trained him when it came to making public appearances. Or about the personality type it reminded her of when he was so particular about how he looked.

"You'll do well with dark blue and silver cuff links," she told him. He sniffed but made no other comment, seeming neither to approve nor disapprove. She was even more pleased she had chosen blue, since apparently they would match, and Draco would be forced to wear the primary color of her House, not his. Even though they had both been out of Hogwarts awhile now, to some extent old House rivalries never died.

"I'll pick you up at one, then," he said, sounding pleased with himself. Almost as pleased, she imagined, as the great puff-chested peacocks wandering around Malfoy Manor. The thought of blond-haired Draco as a white-feathered peacock somehow made her overcome with giggles for some reason, and with a hasty farewell she cut communication, so he could never know how much he sometimes made her laugh.

* * *

Astoria stared with a combination of awe and horror at the great big _thing _standing in front of her large London flat. She supposed she could call it a vehicle of some sort. It looked a little like the Knight Bus in that it had multiple levels, but the sleek design and colouring would surely be offended by the comparison. It looked like Muggle limosines she had seen passing by Six Deerwood Court but had two levels. The colour matched the shade of her robes exactly, and the edges of the windows were subtly tinted with what looked to be real silver. She had stepped outside at exactly one o'clock in the afternoon and found, to her irritation, that Draco was late. She turned to lock her door, and when she had turned around again she found to her astonishment this magnificent car-bus-like thing standing silently in the street, as though it had been there the entire time. Draco, looking as polished and dignified as his father ever had, stood waiting for her at the door, which she was alarmed to note stood as tall as he was.

"Draco," she said faintly as she walked up to it, jaw hanging slightly open. "What exactly is this?"

"This?" he glanced at it over his shoulder as though it would have been otherwise impossible for him to comprehend what she was talking about. The enormous vehicle towered above them and seemed like it should have been bulky and monstrous - but somehow, whether by magic or just an excellent designer, it seemed graceful and elegant instead.

"Why, darling, it's our ride to the wedding," Draco beamed at her, obviously pleased with himself. He opened the door for her but she wouldn't budge. She was so shocked she didn't even refute his pet name, irritating as she found it.

"Draco," Astoria hissed rather venomously, regaining herself somewhat and refusing to take his arm. "We can't take this to the wedding, we'll upstage the bride!"

This did not seem to bother the young Malfoy heir much at all.

"That's her fault for poor planning," he said indifferently. He held out his arm and raised his eyebrows. "Besides, if you don't get in, we'll be late," he pointed out.

Astoria was determined not to put off the quality of her skin by frowning at him. Instead, she just refused his arm and stalked quite determinedly up the stairs (the _stairs!_) into the vehicle, where she immediately became slack-jawed once again.

"Draco Malfoy," she said in outrage, turning to him, for instead of regular seats and a bar the interior contained what looked to be an entire dining room, complete with crystal chandeliers, fine wooden panelling on the sides, and of all things a _pianist _sitting there playing what he seemed somehow to know were her favorite classical tunes. A table furnished fully for two sat in the center.

"Drive," Draco ordered quickly, shutting the door before she could change her mind, a decision which she looked quite on the verge of making. She turned to him in fury and he was smirking, arms folded lazily across his chest, head cocked to the side.

She wanted to slap him! This was supposed to be _her_ date, _she_ had done the asking, and here he was, taking the whole thing over! Seeing the look of plain fury on her face Draco glided forward smoothly and took advantage of her inability to speak by taking her arm and leading her to sit at the table.

"I thought we were going out to eat," she said finally, cursing herself for an apparent inability to articulate any more smoothly than this.

Draco frowned. "What does this look like to you?"

As if on cue a black and white clad waiter glided up to them. Astoria wanted to laugh; he could not be a more stereotypical server with the linen draped over his arm, receding hairline and odd little mustache.

"My name is Pierre, madam, today we are serving glazed steak medallions with grilled asparagus, shittake mushrooms and roast potatoes...will that be quite to your liking?"

"Yes," Astoria said faintly. It was her favorite, how did...? She glanced over to Draco across from her, who was smirking but had a sweet hopeful look in his eyes too that she was quite sure she had never seen before.

Pierre took their drink orders and disappeared into a back room. From what she could gather, this moving building seemed to have the main dining room, a kitchen, a lavatory and an upper deck. Merlin only knew how much this all had to cost...although that had probably been Draco's aim, of course.

"Draco," she said quietly. "How did you do all this?"

He had had only one day to prepare it all; after all, she had called him in the middle of the afternoon yesterday and it wasn't even half one in the afternoon today.

Draco leaned forward, looking more hopeful than he probably meant to.

"Do you like it?" he asked. The smirk was firmly in place but something gentler tugged on the corners of his lips as he asked.

"Well, I-"

"Do you?"

"I have to say it's not quite what I-"

"Astoria." His tone was serious and bordered on annoyed. "Just answer the question."

She bit her lip. "Yes," she admitted. How could she not be impressed? The pianist was performing Rachmaninoff, her favorite Muggle composer, because his music sounded so deeply intelligent. It either said something positive about Draco's character that he was allowing Muggle-written music to be played in his presence (not only that but was paying for it!) or of his education, since the only other option was that he did not know it had been written by a Muggle. Astoria didn't know which was true, but either way, he had somehow remembered her mention her love for the Russian's piano works when even she could not clearly remember quite when she had told it to him, and that alone was something.

"Yes," she repeated softly. "It's very nice."

Draco leaned back in his chair and folded his arms over his chair. "Then it doesn't matter," he said matter-of-factly, in reference to just how he had accomplished the whole thing.

She narrowed her eyes at him as her momentarily lapse of emotional control disappeared, replaced by some measure of misgiving.

"I certainly hope you didn't do anything illegal to obtain any of this," she said suspiciously.

"Well, you know me, darling," Draco drawled, flashing her the smile that had made dozens of Slytherin girls fall over themselves with a sudden case of swooning.

"Don't call me that," she said automatically, with such strong disapproval he lost the grin and scowled instead.

"All right, well, I didn't kill anyone to make it happen," he said defensively, glaring at her. "Is that good enough for you, Greengrass?"

She couldn't help but giggle a little at how he said her name. She always rather felt her surname reminded her of a cow, who wanted to eat green grass, or of a discontented man, who wanted greener grass on the other side of the fence. When Draco said it somehow an image rose to her mind of Draco as a cow eating grass, or of a farmer-Draco with a huge floppy white hat sitting perched on a fence complaining very loudly about the state of his fields.

The cool glare he had on his face now was the other look that Slytherin girls so often lusted after - the sexy, brooding stare was beyond riveting, apparently, though Astoria found it difficult to take him seriously when he took a thing so simple as dinner with such utter lack of humor.

"Don't worry, Draco, I was only joking," she said gently, and immediately the coldness in his eyes softened.

Presently Pierre returned with their wine and appetizers. With Astoria's gentle smile of approval at Draco's efforts, the blonde's smug demeanor had returned. He pushed back in his chair, looking down his nose, scrutinizing the food and drink placed before them. It seemed to his liking, or at least well enough that he did not complain about it. Astoria had to hold back a roll of her eyes; when Draco was with her at the office, he seemed so...uninhibited. So unlike a Malfoy. Of course, he still had his arrogance, and his prejudices, but they were far toned down compared to what he was like around senior members of the Ministry or, say, his father. Whatever snide aristocratic fussiness he was displaying now was more out of habit than that he really, truly cared about the quality. Of course, had it been poor, he would certainly have had it sent back, but he was not being so finicky to the point of sending something back just for the show of it as she had witnessed him do at Ministry functions before. That sort of pride was something Astoria herself did not possess; yes, she liked her things fine and expensive, no she would not ask a Hufflepuff out on a date and yes she expected things and services to be of high quality for her, but she had never been one to send something back and demand a replacement just because she could. It irked her that Draco would do so and it was one of the things she really disliked about him. The way he was gazing at her now, smirking openly, clearly thinking he had won, was another one of those things, and she was going to have to set him straight at the nearest opportunity. This had been _her _date after all, and he had just gone and made it all his own, clearly on purpose. This attempted usurpation of power was something she would not stand for.

"Draco," she said softly, silkily, the danger in her voice so subtle even the keenest might have missed it. He leaned forward, steepling his fingers, eyebrows raised cockily.

"What is it, Astoria?"

"You realize, Draco, this is only the beginning? You haven't won."

He looked politely confused. "Won? I'm sure I don't know what you're going on about, my dear."

"Don't call me that," she said. She steeled her eyes to meet his; sometimes, that flicker of cunning and clever really convince him she should have been in Slytherin instead... "You know perfectly well what I'm - ah - 'going on about'."

Draco's eyes narrowed; this was a game to his liking. "Very well, then. I propose a bet."

"Go on," she said coolly. If Draco Malfoy thought he could beat her at a game of wits, he had quite another thing coming at him.

"A contest , this entire night. If you win...I'll do the paperwork for the senior ambassadors, _all_ of it, for an entire month. If I win..." a tiny grin caught his lips, a very wicked gleam appeared in his eyes. "You have to go on a date with me."

"This isn't a date? What on earth _is_ it, then?" she asked, nonplussed, indicating to all the finery around him and trying to remind him that all this finery was in fact in the back of what more or less counted as a bus.

"A _real_ date," he said dismissively, and Astoria felt a tremour of apprehension in her stomach at what else he could possibly conjure up.

She clenched her jaw. It didn't really matter anyway, because there was no way Draco was going to win. Hell would freeze over first. Daphne would stop being such an air-headed bimbo. Voldemort would rise from the grave and reclaim power...well, she had better not push her luck with that one, stranger things had happened. At any rate, there was no way Astoria would lose. She had always thought she might have been friends with Hermione Granger had they been in the same House and had Granger not been typically occupied with saving Harry Potter's rear end in some sticky situation, given both their sensible heads and knack for bookwork and cleverness. She wasn't, though, but now she thought of Granger, she remembered the Gryffindor girl had been invited to the wedding. Jacob had shown her the guest list a month or so ago, and Astoria seemed to recall Granger on the list...as well as one other name she now found interesting...

Which gave Astoria her most excellent idea. If Draco could recover from _that_, it would be a miracle indeed.

She rose from her seat, smiling sweetly at Draco, and excused herself to the lavatory.

Once there, she removed her wand from the inside pocket of her robes and performed a charm on the mirror that turned it into a two-way portal for communication.

The round, flustered face of a witch around her age appeared in the glass, a sight that would have startled most Muggles but which to Astoria seemed perfectly normal.

"Astoria," hissed the other girl. "What do you want? I have a thousand things to do, the wedding's an hour away-"

"This will only take a moment, Vicky," Astoria said coolly. She quietly reminded Vicky of the sticky situation with David Leonardo Astoria had fixed for her, and Vicky became subdued at once, though she scowled heartily.

"I just need to change the seating charts," Astoria said, raising an eyebrow as Vicky squawked. "Don't look like that - it isn't hard. I just need you to put me and my...er, date...at a different table than you have us right now. I think Jacob put us with Alexis Bixby and Martin Sanders. I need you to change that."

"But we can't, it's so close," said Vicky breathlessly.

"Surely you can," Astoria said. "Just switch a few certain guests to my table and move the formers to the new guests' old position. Really, Vicky, I know you're more competent than that?"

She left the last bit off as a question, to make Vicky question her own competence and thus be more helpful in Astoria's quest.

"Very well," Vicky said reluctantly, looking over her shoulder nervously. She took out her seating charts and tapped them with her wand. "Who do you need moved to your table?"

Astoria smiled evilly. "Hermione Granger and Ginny Weasley, if you please, Vicky...and their dates."

Sitting at a cramped table for four hours with Harry Potter and Ron Weasley was bound to put Draco in excellent spirits, Astoria thought cheerfully as she pretended to flush the toilet and made her way out of the lavatory with a sweet smile at the poor fool who didn't know what was about to hit him.

* * *

**Reviews are always nice. 8)**


	2. Astoria's Revenge

The remainder of the journey progressed smoothly. Astoria found Draco was fairly easy to converse with. For his part, he seemed delighted that she was actually talking with him instead of maintaining a stream of, "Do your work, Malfoy", "Shut it, Malfoy" or "If you speak one more sentence about Quidditch I will curse you into the next century, Malfoy" or similar threats in response to his attempts to talk to her at work.

Astoria refused to eat too much so her dress robes would still fit her properly when they arrived at the wedding (which Draco was kind enough to say was unneccessary, though he agreed with the philosophy nonetheless) and they pulled up at exactly thirty minutes prior to the beginning of the ceremony. It was set in a tiny white church in the country, with the reception hall being in large white tents on the grounds from directly after the ceremony til the send-off later that night. The church, as with many wizarding buildings, was deceivingly small from the outside, but inside held three hundred fifty to four hundred people, depending on the size of the people.

Once they had handed their vehicle off to the valet, Astoria lead them rather hurriedly to the front of the church, where families and their guests were given priority seating. Glancing quickly around she was pleased to note that the guests she had requested to sit with during the reception had not yet arrived for the ceremony. She hastily sat (looking graceful, of course) and motioned Draco to do the same. Good manners dictated they would not turn their heads to the back of the church whilst the guests were still trickling in, and as they were located at the front, Draco should not notice that his least favorite people had been invited until later.

It hadn't occurred to Astoria to care when she discovered Ginny Weasley and Hermione Granger had been invited to the wedding, but the realization had very much pleased her when it became necessary to exact revenge on her date, who thought he had too easily gotten the best of her. It wasn't a surprise, really; Jacob was marrying Alicia Spinnet, Chaser for the Gryffindor Quidditch team, and it was only to be expected that Alicia would want to invite her friends from the team, plus Hermione, who from what Astoria had been able to tell had always been friends with Alicia.

It worked quite well to her advantage now though.

She realized Draco had never even bothered to ask who her cousin was or his fiancee, and it apparently occurred to Draco as well as his eyes widened slightly when the music began and her cousin walked up the aisle, beaming from ear to ear but looking nervous as well. Astoria supposed on her own wedding day she would be nervous, too, though at this point she could hardly imagine finding a man she liked so much she wanted to live with him for the rest of her life.

"That's your cousin?" he muttered to her. "Jacob Fairfield? I didn't know you were related to him."

"Yes, well, we pureblood families are nearly are related to one another," she said, drawling slightly, with a smirk that would have made Draco's father proud. Draco scowled at her and she was internally quite gleeful to have prompted the raction. Draco's blood was as pure as it got, as far as blood went that was, although it didn't matter that much to her. She knew it mattered to him, however, and treating him like he was ignorant of the fact was sure to get on his nerves. That was the goal of the day, anyway, to be as vexing in a civilized manner as possible until Draco was forced to yield victory to her.

"And that's who he's marrying?" hissed Draco in a whisper as Alicia, beaming, came striding up the aisle on the arm of her father.

"Yes, doesn't she look lovely?" Astoria said, ignoring Draco's attempt at snobbery.

"He's pureblood and she's-"

"Oh for goodness sakes, Draco, get over it!" snarled Astoria under her breath while smiling broadly to give the appearance she did not wish to strangle her date then and there. "I would've thought after the end of the war, your stupid prejudices-"

"I have no _prejudices_, just the _pride_ of the Mal-"

Astoria had had enough. Pulling her wand very slightly from the inside pocket of her robes she pointed it at Draco discreetly and hissed, _"Silencio!"_

Instantly sound ceased to come out of Draco's throat, though his lips still moved. When he realized what she had done he looked beyond infuriated; he grabbed for his own wand but the look Astoria flashed him said clearly he was going to find himself dateless unless he began to behave.

From that point on the wedding ceremony progressed smoothly. Astoria had looped her arm through Draco's both to keep up pretenses of actually wanting to be there with him and secondly to prevent him reaching for his wand again - just in case.

After the ceremony, through which Draco maintained his silence, into which he managed to insert considerable moody stoniness, the auditorium was vacated from the back to the front, which suited Astoria quite well. It would prolong her little...surprise...just a little longer. Draco had immediately taken out his own wand at the end of the ceremony and removed her silencing charm, looking positively mulish by that point.

Astoria insisted it was polite to remain in their seats until nearly the entire church had been vacated, claiming her family status warranted it, though in reality that was complete bollocks and she just didn't want Draco to see most of the guests, given that he would probably instantly dislike them. Finally, they left the church and walked to the reception tents. The rest of their table was already seated, and Astoria felt devilishly pleased with herself Draco's eyes nearly buggered out of his head, and not in a good way, at the sight of who their company was to be.

"P-Potter?" he spluttered, looking thunderstruck and horrified. "And Weasley - God, Astoria - what-?"

"Don't ask me, darling," she said sweetly. "I expect it's because Potter's a national sensation. Everyone wants him at their weddings."

It wasn't true and she knew it, but she knew that mentioning Potter's fame and celebrity was the fastest way to get Draco seething and since that was the goal, it seemed like a good idea.

Astoria took his arm and attempted to pull him into a seat beside her own. This he refused, glaring murder at the other members of their table. Astoria shrugged, took her own seat and nodded congenially at Potter, Weasley, Weasley and Granger, as well as the fourth couple, who she had not known would be here but was certainly a welcome surprise...

"And _Lovegood_?" Draco hissed at her, his eyes narrowed. "_Loony Lovegood_? The bloody insane little-"

Harry and Ron both stood up, looking furious, while Ginny and Hermione's eyes narrowed. Luna, however, looked perfectly serene. She turned to her date, a distant-eyed, shrewd-looking fellow who looked rather like a vulture, and expressed some interesting sentiments.

"This is Astoria Greengrass, Rolf, dear," she said in the sing-songy voice she so often used that suggested she was not on the same planet as everyone else. "She was in Ravenclaw, too, you see, and she seems to have brought Draco Malfoy for her date. I am surprised, I thought she didn't prefer selfish pricks, but I have been wrong before."

Beside her, Draco's fists narrowed with fury while Astoria tried to restrain a snort of laughter.

"D'you want us to bloody his pointy nose for you, Luna?" asked Weasley, whose hand had been plunged into his robes at the first sign of trouble.

"Yeah, I wouldn't have a big problem with that at all," added Potter.

"Ron, not now!" hissed Granger, looking nervous. "This is Alicia's wedding!"

"Yeah, and it's going to be Malfoy's funeral if he doesn't watch himself!" snapped Weasley. He seated himself slowly at Granger's insistence, eyes narrowed mistrustfully at Draco.

Astoria sighed and turned her attention to the other women.

"I'm most dreadfully sorry about the behavior of my date. I hope we can start this over."

She held out a hand first to Granger, who shook it, doubt clouding her brown eyes slightly, then to Ginny Weasley, whose suspicion she really hardly bothered even to hide. Lastly she offered a hand to Luna, who declined it very politely, given that Astoria's fingers were covered in codswops, and she would prefer not to. Astoria decided against being offended, given that this was Luna Lovegood, and instead took Luna's genuine smile as a sign that this was not at all personal.

Draco still had not taken his seat. He stood with a magnificent scowl on his face, hands curled into fists, muttered something about finding the lavatories and stalked off. Astoria couldn't help smirking a little; at this rate, Draco would be admitting defeat before dinner had even been served at this rate.

Waiters came round serving cocktails and hors d'oeuvres. Astoria selected hers calmly and proceeded to maintain civil, if idle, chat with Hermione and Ginny for several moments. Ron and Harry had sunk into their seats, the former's hands shoved deep into his pockets, looking highly disgruntled. Luna was deeply involved with her date in a conversation which Astoria neither cared about nor could really decipher and thus decided to ignore.

After a few minutes Draco had still not returned and an uncomfortable silence settled over the white clothed table. Hermione began to fidget with the lace hem of her dress while Ginny and Harry had taken to sending each other what must to them have been meangingful glances. Ron seemed to be fascinated with the small photo of Alicia and Jacob on their table, prodding it with his wand, turning the bride and groom's hair all different colors so they scowled angrily at him. The nature of Ron's mood, however, was like a boiling pot - it could only go so long unattended before it exploded. This description fit Ron very well and at length he jabbed his wand so hard into the little photograph that it exploded, leaving Alicia and Jacob fleeing with a squeal out of the frame.

"This wasn't an accident," he declared suddenly, levelling Astoria with a threatening glare - and pocketing his wand rather reluctantly, on cue from sharp-eyed Hermione.

Astoria sipped her cocktail. "I beg your pardon?"

"This. Not an accident. How could it have been? Malfoy somehow gets seated with Potter? Anybody in the wizarding world knows next to Dumbledore and You-Know-Who there never were two people who loathed each other more."

He glowered at Astoria who looked thoughtful. Hermione looked nervous, Luna looked up with semi-interest and Ginny for her part looked like she quite agreed with Ron.

"Actually," Hermione piped up, despite her anxiety, never able to let misinformation be accepted as truth. "Dumbledore didn't loathe Voldemort. Voldemort might've despised him, because he was afraid of him, but I think Dumbledore only ever pitied-"

Ron turned stony eyes to her and she quickly stopped talking, turning a deep shade of red. She was a pretty girl, Astoria thought, but she should get her reactions under control. She was as easy to read as the books she was reputed to so love.

"_Anyway..._" Ron overemphasized the word. "Fess up. What's going on? Is this some grand plot to get back at Harry for something, Greengrass? You better tell us the truth, too."

Hermione gave a tiny groan at his lack if diplomacy and the whole table seemed to hold its breath waiting for her reply.

Astoria set down her glass, wiped the corner of her mouth with her napkin, and sat back in her chair.

"As a matter of fact, you're right - well, partially," she said calmly. "I am trying to get back at someone for something-"

Ron made a growling noise in his throat and Ginny's fingers tightened protectively around Harry's arm. Hermione, however, hissed, _"Let her finish!" _and presently Astoria did so, as though she had never been interrupted.

"But it isn't Harry. It's Draco."

This statement was met with silence, as each Gryffindor contemplated possible ulterior motives for apparently trying to undermine your date, and Luna softly sang the Hogwarts school song under her breath, tapping a beat that definitely did not belong to that song on her date's arm. Rolf for his part had been studiously constructing a tower out of his fruit using toothpicks to hold them together, and Luna stopped singing long enough to coo over it before picking up the words to the British national anthem sung to a Spanish dance tune.

"Er...why exactly do you want to mess with your own date?" Ron asked, bewildered.

"Namely, because he's a pompous prat, but also to teach him a lesson that there are things money can't buy."

Astoria smirked, and the table got the distinct impression she was alluding to herself.

"Well, right on!" said Ron, a new appreciation for Astoria filling his eyes. Harry glanced at Ginny; they seemed to come to a mutual conclusion about the genuine nature of Astoria's opinion and both shrugged.

"So what d'you need us to do, then?" Harry asked, speaking for the first time. It seemed easier to speak somehow knowing now she wasn't there to make him look foolish or, possibly, kill him.

"All you have to do is get along with me," said Astoria. "I'm going to largely ignore him to talk to you - he'll hate that, of course. Being ignored is something he's not used to, especially by someone he's been trying to impress for far too long now."

She leaned forward conspiratorially. "Think you can do that? Never mind, you're all intelligent, I'm quite sure you can. Oh, look-"

She glanced over her shoulder to discover Draco stalking toward them, almost tipsily, bearing a fresh cocktail in one hand and several more likely in his blood.

"Here's the man of the hour now."

Astoria smiled sweetly at Draco as he seated himself uncertainly beside her before grasping her hand so firmly between his own it seemed unlikely he would ever release it.

"Sorry, just been to use the loo," he muttered, looking down at his plate.

Astoria's smile widened. "It isn't a problem, Draco. I was just asking Harry some things about his life. He hadn't quite answered my last question yet though - Harry, how _do_ you keep up with all the calls for interviews, all the attention, after winning the war all on your own?"

Draco almost choked.

Astoria's smirk could not have been more smug or wide.

Ron burst into odd convulsions that seemed to be laughter while Ginny thumped him on the back. Harry on the other hand looked quite thoughtful and serious as he pondered the question, playing along.

"It's quite hard, you know. Being the chosen one and all that..."

Draco picked up his drink and took the whole thing in one magnificent swig.

The little devil in Astoria could not be happier.

* * *

**Haha. We'll see how much Draco really likes Astoria by how much Potter-worshipping he'll put up with for her...**


End file.
